But even I couldn’t miss the way she looked me up and down. That was one hell of an appreciative glance. That was the kind of look that made me feel like I needed to smoke a cigarette when it was done. That was the kind of look that screamed that Miss Solare was indulging in a naughty professor fantasy, which was just fine by me given the circumstances. It was the kind of look that said she was clearly interested in me in more than academic terms, and it was so obvious that even I, the queen of the oblivious, couldn’t miss it.
